


There was The Poetry

by amixxhan



Series: history has its eyes on you [3]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Character Study, Gen, Reincarnation, Vignette, alternate title: what the hell is our relationship ft. aaron burr and alexander hamilton, basically how i tag this, lin-manuel miranda is their english teacher fIGHT ME, they're friends guys dont worry they dont shoot each other in the gut, this is just me gushing about platonic!hamburr sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-13
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-08-30 18:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8544988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amixxhan/pseuds/amixxhan
Summary: Aaron Burr understood many things.Unfortunately, it does not include one Alexander Hamilton.





	1. Burr

Aaron Burr understood most things.

Despite that: he can never understand Alexander Hamilton.  Reckless, boundless, insatiable Alexander: who wrote and fought and loved like he's running out of time (and he did, and it was  _his_  fault). Whose beliefs flew out of his mouth at speeds light could never hope to reach.

Alexander Hamilton, who was a man of contradictions and riddles no one ever bothered to solve. It's not a surprise to him, not anymore.

He had always been good at reading people, to say what they want to hear. To shut up, talk less and smile. God, he can only wish for Hamilton's decisiveness and boldness and bravery, to actually express _his_ beliefs and _his_ thoughts.

When Aaron dies the first time, he is almost relieved.

(Death doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints; it takes whatever it fucking wants. He learned that the hard way.)

* * *

 

 The details are fuzzy and memories from two centuries ago scarce and far apart— just enough to remember that Hamilton's life so deeply intertwined with his. That Hamilton's his downfall. That Hamilton's the other side of the coin.

That he is remembered for shooting Hamilton in a duel to the death. Whose _face_ he sees in ten dollar bills every single fucking day.

And Hamilton— Hamilton never hesitates, he raises the stakes and changes the game, makes financial systems, leads a battalion into victory.

(He could’ve done _so much more_ if he didn’t wait.)

* * *

 

Death is tricky. Death allows some souls to return to the world, reborn, in new bodies and names, with old memories hidden in the most obscure of places.

Aaron was one of them, and he’s not sure if he wants that second chance.

(He does.)

* * *

 

He was thirteen when the first Vision happened (Capital V, always with a capital V).

He doesn’t know if it was triggered by the mentioned of guns and ten dollar bills or the fact that it was July the eleventh (the day he shot Hamilton— he grimaces at the thought).

Unfamiliar hands hold a gun. He shoots the faint figure of a man a few feet away.

He wakes up screaming.

(He goes alone to a reincarnation clinic the next day. He remembers only tiny details. He’s sure of only one thing: he doesn’t want this.)

* * *

 

There’s never a clear memory. Everything he remembers is fuzzy at best and supplemented by library books about him.

He does what he’s done for the past two hundred or so years. He waits. He waits for answers, for the truth.

(Years later he realizes he waited for nothing.)

* * *

 

When he re-meets Alexander Hamilton; stubborn, pain in the ass Hamilton, he shakes his hand.

“Aaron Burr, sir.” The words are automatic; almost robotic even.

“Alexander Hamilton, sir.”

There was no coldness in Hamilton’s voice. Aaron wonders if Hamilton remembers his name yet. There’s still a fire in Hamilton’s (now brown) eyes. Nothing has changed in two hundred years, he realizes.

(Aaron hopes that Hamilton doesn’t run his mouth off, he’s done enough shooting and dueling the last time.)

* * *

 

At times like this, the most logical thing to do is to talk to a trusted adult; he does, it takes the form of Homeroom Adviser Lin-Manuel Miranda.

 “Sir I-“

“Mr. Burr.”

Aaron freezes. Lin just drinks from his cup of coffee, running his left hand through his hair. He’s standing by the window in his office, turning to him.

“It’s about Mr. Hamilton, isn’t it?”

 “Yes sir.” His voice shakes.

“He’s talked to me about this as well.”

So Hamilton _did_ remember.

“Aaron, this second life of yours . . . it’s a second chance, make use of it. I bet Alexander’s willing to strike up a friendship.”

(He only nods. Lin beams at him. He leaves immediately.)

* * *

 

They end up being paired up in Poetry analysis the next day. Aaron’s not surprised.

They talk. They talk about his misadventures in Europe (including the infamous ‘I spent at least 700 dollars on a fucking coconut’ and ‘I tried to conquer Mexico’ incidents), the Washingtons, the Schuylers, the others, what he missed during the first two years of the Program. They finish the analysis a minute before the period ends and Lin— Lin looks happy for them.

It turns out Mr. Miranda was right. Alexander shakes his hand, smiling like a kid in a candy store.

(They get the highest marks. Everyone— including Mr. Miranda— is astounded.)

* * *

 

They spend a lot of time talking (Listening, on his part. Alexander Hamilton was and is a force to be reckoned with when he gets too passionate.) and exchanging notes and making assignments for Mr. Adams and Mr. Greene and all their teachers.

“People who stand for nothing fall for everything,” Alexander once said to him, “I don’t really remember if I said that, but it’s a nice saying to live with.”

“Heh, I’d rather wait and see how the world reacts,” was his reply.

“You haven’t changed then. Mister ‘if you can do something tomorrow, procrastinate and don’t do it lest you make a mistake.’” Alexander smirked. He can only sigh in disdain.

“You too,” he retorts, “Alexander Hamilton, you haven’t changed one bit. And I did _not_ say that.”

“I can never understand you,” Alexander’s voice was soft and quiet for once. There’s a twinge of regret: he knows the sound of the damned thing.

He nervously laughs and tries to continue with assignments.

(It becomes a tradition of some sorts: making assignments in the library, an hour or two a day, just the two of them, discussing what happened in this life and the last. They don’t discuss what was not understood. He longs for that.)

* * *

 

Other than those study sessions, Alexander was almost never with him. Alexander has Laurens, Alexander has Mulligan and Lafayette and the Schuyler Sisters.

Not like he complains. He has Jefferson, he has Madison, he has Theodosia (the light and love his lives, both of them.). They’re enough for him.

(They’re not enough and he fucking knows it. There’s always something about Alexander that keeps him on his toes. He waits. He can wait a little more if it explains why Alexander Hamilton is in his life.)

* * *

 

Two sides of the same coin. Opposites. Foils. Trump cards. Royal Flushes. Kings at the opposite sides of a chessboard.

That was his relationship with Alexander Hamilton. Similar but different. Different yet the same.

Yet here they were, after a duel, after everything that has and will happen. Friends. Equals. Comrades. _Brothers_ (spiritually at least).

(And he realizes, two hundred years overdue: They were poetry.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Hamilton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexander Hamilton did not understand a lot, but he does understand Aaron Burr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and welp i did this instead of studying. it might get a lil wonky because im tired

Alexander Hamilton did not understand a lot, but he does understand Aaron Burr.

The thing about Aaron Burr was Burr shot him in the gut about two hundred and five years ago. That shot led to his early death. That shot led to a day of pretty much hell on Earth. Left his wife and children without a husband and a father respectively, he hasn’t spoken to Eliza (her incarnate at least, like him) about that too— perhaps he should.

Damn.

Not like Alexander’s particularly mad about it (now that he’s seen more of his old letters and remembered quite a few memories, he doesn’t really blame the man).

So much emotional turmoil for an old soul that just got their first Vision just before the week he met his killer.

Doesn’t really help that Vision he had was of that fucking duel. It felt like getting shot all over again.

He shakes his hand. He hopes, this time around, they’ll work their differences out.

(They do.)

* * *

 

“Mr. Miranda?”

It’s the first time he noticed, but his voice was a hell lot quieter this time around (he used to shout a lot, at least, that’s how the memories show).

“It’s about Aaron Burr, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“The purpose of reincarnation is to correct your past mistakes and change for the better Alex,” Lin said. “Why don’t you try making friends with him?”

(He ultimately follows Mr. Miranda’s advice; he turned out to be good at this kind of stuff, having studied them for a little over five years. Well, they _were_ dead. Not creepy at all.)

* * *

 

Lin-Manuel Miranda's English Class.

He knew he shared it with Burr and a few others so he said something along the words of _fuck it, let’s do this._

Poetry Analysis, shouldn’t be too hard, he’s written poetry himself. Gave it to Eliza, gave some to Laurens and some to Laf the last time around. Man, he hoped that some had been saved, but apparently his son (from the last time around too) had burned them to crisps, _especially the once he gave to Laurens_.

Instead of reading fucking _Romeo and Juliet Act two Scene two_ again, he talks with Burr. Burr is surprisingly _chill_. He likes him, and now he wonders if the human disaster front he had up the first day Alex was in the program was an act. Because, _man_ , Burr’s smooth as fuck.

“Did you know I spent five-hundred dollars on a coconut?” Burr asks, almost embarrassed. “I mean it’s probably around seven hundred ‘cause of inflation but _still_. Definitely spent it, how did I word it again— oh yeah, _like an ass_.”

“Jesus Christ, you sound like you had an interesting life.” Alex laughs silently. “I’ve read somewhere that you tried to conquer Mexico.”

“Oh yeah— about that.”

The conversation lasted for about a half-hour while working on the thingy.

(Lin patted his back after the class and said something about being proud of them working out their differences, sappy shit to be honest, but he’s right.)

* * *

 

They become fast friends. They do assignments and notes together in the library, they talk shit about most of their teachers. They discuss politics and how shitty the Electoral College has become.

“People who stand for nothing fall for everything,” he said, “I don’t really remember if I said that, but it’s a nice saying to live with.”

“Heh, I’d rather wait and see how the world reacts,” said Burr, turning the page of the book he’s holding.

“You haven’t changed then. Mister ‘if you can do something tomorrow, procrastinate and don’t do it lest you make a mistake,’” he replied.

“You too, Alexander Hamilton, you haven’t changed one bit. And I did _not_ say that.” Burr shakes his head in disagreement.

“I can never understand you,” Alex admits.

(He genuinely enjoys Burr’s company, he finds out.)

* * *

 

“Laurens?”

John looks at him, still chewing his damn pencil from across the room. “What is it ‘Lex?”

“It’s fine to become friends with the guy who killed you, right?” Alex fidgeted, more of shaking actually, just a bit though, nothing serious.

“Why not? Everything from the seventeen-hundreds should be the past— actually, _it is_ the past— literally. And you know, Burr’s been really down from that since I first met him. I _think_ that was his first Vision as well,” Laurens replied.

“Really?”

“Not sure though. You could ask him if you want to.”

(It is.)

* * *

 

Takes him a while, but he understands why he met Burr this time around. Why he had to be reincarnated.

Why Laf still called him their _Petit Leon_ and Herc still teased him about not adjusting to New York’s chill yet, why he’s still hopelessly in love with Eliza and Laurens, why Peggy confides in him, why Angelica’s a bit tense around him. Why Theodosia smiles at him. Why Jefferson and Madison debate with him— _why Burr was there at his side_.

Second chance. A second chance to make America better — the world better even— to reintroduce the old and make something new.

Who knows, maybe he’ll get to be President this time around.

**Author's Note:**

> the alternate title of this fic is 'hello i did this instead of my requirements i cri'.
> 
> also i might release a full length fic about this au!!!
> 
> i also might add alexander's own thoughts but idk man


End file.
